Into the Ruins
by Italy's Driving
Summary: Into the Ruins series part one. Veneziano, America and Germany are somehow sent back in time, through science or magic they're not sure. What they do know? It's four years before the fall of the Roman Empire. They have to get home. And Rome may or may not have fallen in love. With America. Ancient RomexAmerica and hints of GerIta. Mentions of the other nations. Smart!America
1. Pt 1: A Flux in the Time-Space Continuum

Part One: A Flux in the Time-Space Continuum

 **So hi! Basically I was challenged to think of the crackiest pairing I could and write a fanfiction of them. You know what pairing I thought of? RomexAmerica. You know what I then thought of? TIME TRAVEL! Who doesn't love time travel!? I love time travel. You know what I thought of** _ **then**_ **? The fact that America has, I believe, a doctorate in archaeology. You know who has a lot of ruins? The Italies. You know who hangs with Veneziano a lot? Germany. You know who wouldn't be there? Romano. So you know what? VENEZIANO SHOWING AMERICA AROUND HIS RUINS AND GERMANY TAGGING ALONG AND THEN TIME TRAVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL! I'm sorry, I'm really excited about this. So. I don't own Hetalia (obviously). ONTO THE STORY**

WISE MEN SAY ONLY FOOLS RUSH IN BUT I CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU

"Hey, Veneziano?" Veneziano looked up as he was addressed by America.

"Ve~ Yes, America?" Veneziano asked.

"This is kinda a weird question, and you don't hafta if you don't wanna but… I was wondering if you would mind showing me around some of your ruins?" America asked, looking away and blushing.

"Ve~? Why me? Greece has way more," Veneziano chirped.

"Well, yeah, but Greece already showed me his. They were really cool and informative. So I wanna see the difference between Ancient Greek and Ancient Roman architecture," America said.

"Ve~ wow, America! I didn't know you were so smart! Sure I'll show you, but you hafta do something for me, first," Veneziano said.

"Sure, whatever you want," America said.

"First, Germany gets to come along!" America nodded his consent, "And second, you don't get to wear baggy clothes like you always do! All your clothes have to actually fit you."

"Alright. I have some jeans and tanks that aren't too big for me. What's the weather like?" America asked.

Veneziano looked thoughtful, "Ve~ About this time of year it'll be pretty hot, and a bit humid. A tank top and jeans should work, but shorts would be better."

"Alright. Can we do it next week?" America asked.

"Ve~ Why not just do it now?" Veneziano asked.

"Well, I mean, we're in the middle of a series of meetings."

Ve~ But we're at my house, so why not just do it now? Germany won't mind, will you, Germany?" Germany looked away from where he was supervising a fight between Austria and Switzerland.

"Mind what?" Germany asked.

"Ve~ I was going to show America around some of my ruins, and we wanted you to come along," Veneziano explained.

"Alright. I'll come along. Just let me change my clothes," Germany said.

"Ve~ America can change his clothes, too," Veneziano said.

SHALL I STAY? WOULD IT BE A SIN? IF I CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU

America met up with Germany and Veneziano outside of the hotel. They were standing in front of a black car, waiting for him. Germany wore his usual military trousers and a black tank top, his Iron Cross hanging around his neck and a pair of sunglasses perched atop his head. Veneziano wore cargo shorts and an orange tee shirt with… was that a map of Italy on it? Wow. Okay. America was not expecting that.

"Ve~ You take a long time, America," Veneziano said.

"Yeah, sorry. I was… taking a shower," America said, trying to think up a formidable excuse. Really, he had had trouble with the buttons on his uniform shirt. That really was to be expected, after all, America had been raised by butlers and maids and other household servants. He was still figuring out how to dress himself.

"That's alright. Do you need sunscreen?" Germany asked as they climbed into the car.

"Nah, that's alright. My skin doesn't burn," America answered.

"Alright, we should get going then," Germany said.

From there on, the car ride and the arrival at the ruins was rather awkward. The three weren't very close, and they didn't really know how to talk to each other. Or, at least, Germany and Veneziano didn't know how to talk to America. But, then again, who really did? Even his own brother didn't know how to approach the powerful young nation.

"Ve~ America seems happy," Veneziano commented, standing away from America next to Germany. America was currently examining a column, running a brush over it and then jotting stuff down in a small notebook he had.

"Ja, he does. Did you know he was into archaeology?" Germany asked.

"Ve~ No, not at all. But I don't really know much about him," Veneziano said.

"That's true," Germany said.

"Ve~ You knew him as a kid, right, Germany?" Veneziano asked.

"Ja, I did. Though we mostly spoke through letters. He didn't have much time for friends when he was older than a toddler," Germany said, "He was always busy with studies or meetings whenever I went to his place. And whenever he came to Europe, he was always skipping around courts. One week he'd be in the Spanish court and the next the French, and as soon as I got there to visit he'd be in the English again."

"Ve~ Sounds like he had a busy childhood," Veneziano said.

"Hey, guys? There's something odd over here," America called. Germany and Veneziano quickly made their way over to the young nation to look at what he was pointing at.

"Ve~ What is that?" Veneziano asked.

"Dunno. Just found it, all glowy like that." what America said was true. Strangely, a plain stone, covered in dust, sat glowing a bright white on the ground. It wasn't anything special, not a jewel or anything. Just a plain stone.

"Welp," America continued, "When in doubt, poke it." With that, he harshly poked the stone with his forefinger and everything went white.

LIKE A RIVER FLOWS SURELY TO THE SEA DARLING SO IT GOES SOMETHINGS ARE MEANT TO BE

America woke with a throbbing head for more than one reason. The first, was that it seemed he'd hit his head harshly on a stone and it was now bleeding, the second reason was that Veneziano was screeching in his ear.

"Veneziano! Veneziano!" America yelled, "You are screeching in my ear, stoppit!"

"Ve~ America! You're alive! Oh, thank god," Veneziano chirped happily.

"Yeah, I am. Where are we?" America lifted Veneziano to his feet and looked around himself, seeing the clothes people outside of their little alley were wearing, "Er, lemme correct that. _When_ are we?"

"23 BC," Germany intoned from his spot leaning against a wall.

"Um, how d'you know that?" America asked.

"I asked someone. They thought I was just a daft Germanic, don't worry," Germany said.

"Germanic…? 23 BC? This is the year of the fall of Rome! Wow, this is a great learning experience," America said, not noticing as Veneziano stiffened.

"'Ciano…? Are you alright?" Germany asked quietly as America immediately started examining the stonemanship, paying no mind to the other two nations with him.

"Ve~ I-I… Grandpa Rome is still alive. Maybe we could find him! He could help us, I could… I could say goodbye…" Veneziano said, his voice quieting with every word. Germany placed his arm around the older nation's shoulders, comforting him.

"If we explain to him what is going on, he could help us get back. Do you know the way to his palace?" Germany asked.

"Ve~ Most definitely. But… what do we do about America? I can pass as Roman, and you as Germanic. But America can't pass as a European at all! Not with hair and skin like that," Veneziano said, looking quizzically at the young nation.

"We'll be telling your grandfather we're from the future, so we don't need to pass him off as a European," Germany said.

"Ve~ That makes sense," Veneziano said.

"What about clothes? I can pass mine off as Germanic, but should you and America get a, uh, what is that called?" Germany asked.

"A chilton?" America asked, walking up, "It would make it easier for us to blend in and get to the Imperial Palace easier."

"Ve~ What America said," Veneziano chirped.

"How do we get some?" America asked.

"Ve~ Here! Germany can go buy us some," Veneziano said.

"Where do I buy clothes here?" Germany asked.

"There'll be a large complex in Quirinal Hill. It's called Trajan's Market, or it is in our time. It's a large collection of a bunch of shops. You should be able to find a clothes shop there," America said absentmindedly, running his fingers through his blood matted hair.

"Ve~ How do you know this?" Veneziano asked.

"I have a doctorate in archaeology," America said.

"Ve~ Alright! Germany! We need the clothes," Veneziano said. Germany nodded and headed off after getting basic instructions on where to go from America.

"Did I upset you by mentioning Ancient Rome, before?" America asked.

"Ve~ A little bit. But people talk about him all the time, so I'm kind of used to it. It just disarmed me. Usually people talk about his achievements, not his fall. Which, uh, would not be a good thing to talk about in front of him. If he asks, tell him he's still the greatest country in the world," Veneziano said.

"Alright. Afterall, something like that could actually lead to him becoming more paranoid and end up destroying the empire," America said. Veneziano nodded, though he had no idea what that meant. There was a stretch of silence between them, before Veneziano asked,

"Ve~ America? What do you think happened? What sent us here?"

"Most likely a flux in the time-space continuum," America said absentmindedly.

"Ve~ What does that mean?"

"It means that when we- or more specifically _I_ \- touched that rock, time slowed down so intensely that instead of progressing in a normal stream towards a farther point, it regressed so much that it sent us back in time. 2'040 years back, specifically. Wow. How old are you, in this time?"

"Ve~ I was around 100 or so, Big Brother Romano was around 200. Though physically we're both only babies, Romano about two years older."

"Wow. I… my father hadn't even had me yet."

"Father? I didn't know you had a father."

"Native America. Ata'halne, as he was often referred to as. It means 'he who interrupts'. It suit him really well."

"Did he fall, too?"

"Eh, sort of. He, uh, he kind of-"

"I got the clothes," Germany interrupted, walking into the alley way. America turnt his gaze to the blond and smiled, standing up.

"Great! So, uh, how do we put these on?" Veneziano and Germany face-palmed.

TAKE MY HAND TAKE MY WHOLE LIFE TOO CAUSE I CAN'T HELP FALLING IN LOVE WITH YOU

After about fifteen minutes helping (a highly embarrassed) America get on a chilton, the trio set off to the Imperial Palace.

"Did you know that in Tsarist Russia, the home of the royal family was also referred to as the Imperial Palace?" America asked as they walked. Germany and Veneziano did, in fact, know this. But spouting off random and unneeded facts seemed to be helping America with his embarrassment at the fact that the chilton was practically a dress.

"Really?" Germany said, just to humour the nervous nation.

"Yeah. At one point, Russia kept being given fake members of his royal family from Sweden and Poland. All of them were named Dmitri, I don't think he ever caught on until he was told about it. Or he was amused and played along. He does that a lot," America rambled.

"Know a lot about Russia, do you?" Germany asked.

America nodded, "Prior to the rise of communism in his country, the two of us were really good friends. But we had conflicting interests at the time and so we became sort-of enemies. But we're really good friends, now. He tells me a lot about his history, mainly because I ask. I like knowing what makes people who they are, and Russia's bloody history made him the man he is today."

"Ve~ What? Bloodthirsty and psychotic?" Veneziano asked jokingly.

"No," America's voice was hard and cold, "Russia is not bloodthirsty or psychotic. He is mentally unstable, that much is true, but he is unaware or his own cruelty and truly unable to control his strength. He doesn't mean to hurt someone, never has outside of war or protecting himself or others. He is not, never has been, and never will be a bad person. He is a deeply disturbed individual that is in need of help, and he cannot receive the help he needs if people like _you_ say things like _that_. You all are just big bullies to him."

"America, you misunderstand. We- Veneziano didn't mean to _insult_ or _bully_ Russia, he meant it in a joking manner," Germany said, trying to placate the young nation.

"Oh. Sorry. Anyway. Did you know that at one point three guys all declared themselves pope at the same time and then excommunicated each other and it was basically the funniest thing in the world," America said. Germany didn't know this, but Veneziano did.

"Ve~ I remember that! It was so funny and chaotic," Veneziano laughed.

"One time my country went to war over a pig," America said absently, kicking a rock to the side.

"What?"

"What?"

"Nevermind…" Germany looked away, confused.

"Ve~ We're here," Veneziano said.

Veneziano marched right up to the guard and knocked on his helmet four times.

"Ve~ It's a code that we're here to see the avatar, not the emperor. Only other avatars know it, so we'll immediately be let in," Veneziano explained. The guard ushered them through.

"D'ya know where to go?" America asked.

"If course. This place is really big, so stick with me so you don't get lost. It happens more often than you'd think." America had never seen Veneziano's eyes open before, and he was struck with how _bright_ they were when the old nation turnt to him.

I WAS A LITTLE TOO TALL COULDA USED A FEW POUNDS WITH TOO TIGHT PANTS AND A FEW POINTS

The Roman Empire opened his door as soon as they knocked. He was tall and unusually handsome, with a brown curly hair and a slight beard. Veneziano had his eyes. And his face. The two were very similar. Roman Empire's eyes immediately fell on America, and his eyebrows rose.

"Hello," Roman Empire said, his gaze still focused on the youngest of the group.

"Ve~ Hello! We're from the future." Veneziano said.

Roman Empire's eyebrows shot into his hairline, "Certainly the oddest thing I've ever been introduced to with."

"It's true. There was a flux in the time-space continuum and it send us 2'040 years into the past. We're from the year 2017," America said.

"Beauty and brains. Certainly quite the package. What's on your face?" Roman Empire asked. America pushed up his wire rim glasses and looked to the side.

"They're called glasses. They help me to see," America continued, "We need your help in getting back to our actual time."

Roman Empire sighed, "Come on in."

SHE WAS A BLACK HAIRED BEAUTY WITH BIG DARK EYES AND A FEW POINTS OF HER OWN

"So what you're telling me, is that you touched a stone in the future and it sent you back here, and you decided that it would be best to seek me out for help?" Roman Empire asked, after a few hours of the trio explaining their situation to him.

"Ve~ Yes," Veneziano said.

"And that you're my youngest grandson," Veneziano nodded, "You're the grandson of my best friend and guard," Germany nodded, "And that this beauty right here is the second most powerful country in the world in your normal time?" America was actually the most powerful, but they had told Roman Empire that he was the most powerful nation in order to keep up the pretense that the Roman Empire had not fallen. The fall of the Roman Empire was something that took years, but four years before it had officially fallen the first time and the avatar looked quite well. A little more tired than he should be, but healthy.

"Why does he keep calling me beautiful?" America whispered to Veneziano as Roman Empire stood and walked a little way away to get himself a drink.

"He likes exotic things. You're not his grandson, nor Germania or anyone that he knows of. You also don't look like anyone he knows. He likes that," Veneziano answered, his voice a whisper as well.

"I don't like it. I feel weird, knowing that he's, uh, you know, in our normal time," America said.

Veneziano nodded, "Believe me, there is nothing more awkward than watching your grandfather flirt with someone a few thousand years younger than him."

"What're you guys whispering about?" America and Veneziano screeched in surprise at the same time, both of them falling off the settee they were seated upon. Roman Empire laughed heartily, clutching his stomach at the dramatic reaction.

America huffed and sat up, pushing his glasses back in place, "Rude."

IT'S A DEAD MAN'S PARTY WHO COULD ASK FOR MORE LEAVE YOUR BODY AT THE DOOR

 **So I know for a fact that this is the longest thing I've ever written for you guys. I love it. It does actually have a plot… I'm kidding. There is sort of a plot, but mostly it's some fluff for this crack pairing that I somehow fell in love with along the way of writing this? It's weird. I ship America with everyone. I have the ending all planned out, I know how it ends. And it will most likely be a series. Of one shots, actually. Progressing for four years, in the story. Who knows how long it will take to write all of what I want to. So. Yeah. This is it for the first one shot in the series. I don't know how long this series will be, I guess however long it takes me to get to my point.**

 **Until Next Time, this is Italy's Driving saying;** _ **That's All Folks!**_


	2. Pt 2: Preparing For a Journey

Part Two: Preparing For a Journey

 **So if you read the ending author's note, you'd know that I wasn't posting this as a single story. It would be a bunch of difference little one shots. That form a coherent storyline with twists and turns and maybe a love triangle or two. Or 45, but, you know. Details. As we get further into the series, certain one shots won't require the reader read the ones before it *coughdateswithromeandamericacough* but it will be less confusing if you do. You should also not pay attention to the ending author's note because I'm stupid don't listen to me. Now! I don't own Hetalia, ONTO THE STORY**

YOU WORRY TOO MUCH YOU MAKE YOURSELF SAD YOU CAN'T CHANGE FATE BUT DON'T FEEL SO BAD

It had been a few days since they had arrived in 23 BC and the trio were no closer to getting back home than they were when they first got there. They were staying in Roman Empire's wing in the Imperial Palace, and the empire insisted on following America wherever he went. Which annoyed the young nation to no end.

"Veneziano," America whined in a rare hour of alone time (Roman Empire was at a a meeting with the other Ancients. It seemed that even back then the nations got together), "Make him stop following me around."

"Ve~ I don't know if I can, America. Grandpa Rome is pretty stubborn. Once he sets his mind to something, he won't rest until that something is accomplished. Or wooed, in the case of a person," Veneziano said, not looking up from the text he was reading.

"What're you even reading?" America asked.

"A text on magic. I'm trying to see if our situation was caused by magical and not scientific means," Veneziano said.

America snorted, "Magic isn't real."

"That's where you're wrong, beautiful," America sighed in disappointment as Roman Empire reappeared, "I don't understand how you can't accept magic as a reality. We are literally the very personification of a group of humans that declared themselves citizens of a place. That's magical. This love is magical."

"What love? All I feel is annoyance and a slight loathing," America murmured under his breath. Needless to say, Roman Empire was nothing like what America had expected. The guy wasn't noble. Or heroic. Or honest. Or strong. Or courageous. Or anything that the (twenty-third) greatest empire in the world should be. What he was, was flirtatious. And presumptuous. And annoying. And loud. And that's coming from _America_. If that isn't telling you something, nothing will.

"If magic is so real, Roman Empire, than how come we haven't been able to find a way back to our own time in all these spell books?" America asked, longsufferingly.

Roman Empire sighed like someone teaching an uneducated person something they had said a million times, "I told you to call me Rome. Or Romulus, if you'd like, Americae-"

"America," America corrected quietly.

"You can't find anything because most spells are exchanged and kept alive orally. If you want to find a spell, I know exactly where we have to go. Besides, why ever would you want to leave when I'm right here? Oh! Well. I mean, I'm alive in that time, too. But who knows how I feel about you then! Oh, it's impossible for me to not notice you! You're so radiant even the great goddess Venus is jealous of your beauty!" Rome didn't seem to mind America mocking his voice quietly the whole time.

"Actually, you're a lot different in our time. Much less annoying," America said. Rome didn't seem to catch the insult.

"What's your human name?" Rome asked.

America choked on his wine, "What!? That's a bit presumptuous, isn't it? I can't just tell you my human name, that's a personal thing!"

"Is it really? Is that how it is in the future? Here, everyone knows everyone's human names," Rome said.

"Not everyone," America murmured.

"What was that?" Rome asked.

"Nothing. Who do we have to go to see if a spell exists?" America asked.

"Britannia," Rome said casually. America stiffened.

"Britannia? As in, the mother of England and Scotland and Wales and North Ireland and Ireland?" America asked.

"Are there two Irelands in your time? And, yes, that Britannia," Rome said.

"Oh god no." Before the trio had left, America had had a terrible row with England. And America didn't think he could stand to see England, no matter the age of the older nation.

"Well." Rome continued, "We will have to leave in a few days for Britannia's place. She resides on an island, so we will have to take a ship after we walk to the coastline."

"Ve~ We're walking, Grandpa? I thought we would be taking horses," Veneziano said. Rome didn't seem to mind Veneziano calling him grandpa.

"If you all know how to ride, we can," Rome said, "That would be faster."

"I can ride," America said.

"Oh, no. We can't let you ride by yourself, you could get hurt! You'll ride with me," Rome said. America shot a "please help me" look to Veneziano.

"Actually, Grandpa. I think it would be best that America ride with me. I'm not a very good rider and I wouldn't want to fall off and get hurt, and America is so much more skilled at it than me," Veneziano said.

"Smart, beautiful and a skilled rider? I think I'm falling for you by the minute." for an odd reason, the words seemed to make America's heart skip a beat. It was rather uncomfortable.

"I'll, uh, just ride with Veneziano so that he doesn't get hurt," America said, shooting a thankful look to the Italian.

"Yes, of course! And my grandson is very skilled with a sword so should bandits attack, he can defend you and your honour," Rome said, then walked off to go arrange everything.

" _You and your honour_ ," America mimicked lowly.

"You should try to be nicer to him. He really does like you," Germany commented lightly.

America snorted, "How d'ya know that?"

"He got drunk and told me last night," Germany said, stretching to put what he was reading away, "He seemed to think I might know how to woo you."

"Lord help us all if someone's going to Spock here for romantic advice," America said.

"Who is this Spock, you speak of? Is he another nation in your time?" Rome asked. America snorted, looking down and shaking his hand.

"No, Spock is not another nation. He's a character in an epic series," America said, his tone laughing.

"Oh! You will have to tell me of this series some time. For now, I must take my leave to prepare the horses and supplies," Rome said before walking off. America watched as he walked off, feeling slightly bad for the slightly disheartened face the older nation wore.

YOU CAN'T CHANGE FATE BUT DON'T FEEL SO BAD ENJOY IT WHILE YOU CAN IT'S JUST LIKE THE WEATHER

Rome stood among the horses, petting his favorite one, a large Calabrese with golden brown fur and a black mane and tail. She was strong and swift and always reliable. Rome had ridden her and her ancestors into battle for centuries. She was his dearest friend, aside from Germania.

"Hello, girl," Rome whispered into her ear, "What do you think of those three? They're hiding something from me. Can you feel it, too, girl?" The horse snorted and reared her head, Rome leaned back to avoid getting hit.

"It's nothing malicious, I can tell. Something that makes my grandson sad. Whatever it is, I'll find out soon. With or without them telling me," Rome said, very sure of himself.

"For now, though, I should get the others ready for the ride tomorrow. The servants will have set up the supplies," Rome pressed a kiss to the horse's temple and walked off to the other three horses that would be ridden plus a pack mule.

"Do you need any help?" Rome turned around and smiled at Germany.

"Yes, please, come in. Can you work with her?" Rome pointed to a catria horse. Germany nodded and made his way over to her. She reared her head at the unfamiliar touch at first, but calmed when she realized there was no threat. Rome smiled. It seemed the boy had the same touch with animals that his grandfather did.

"Ignore America," Germany said suddenly, "I mean, ignore the mean things he says. He gets that way sometimes. He'll let it go in a little bit."

"I get the feeling that he doesn't like me that much," Rome answered, petting the bardigiano he was brushing.

"It's not that. You're. . . different in our time. He has a certain perception of you - we all do, really - and you're not quite what he expected. He's shocked and doesn't know how to act," Germany explained, "He'll get his act together soon."

"You know, you look and act so much like your grandfather. It's frightening, sometimes," Rome said, "Though you are calmer than he."

Germany looked shocked for a second, "Uh. . . Thank you."

"Why are names a personal thing in the future?" Rome asked. Germany was silent for a few minutes, as if thinking.

"I. . . In the future, there are a lot of us. And we tend to form families out of all of them. For example, Veneziano, Romano, France, and Spain consider themselves a family. But then France also has Seychelles, England, Canada, and Monaco. Furthermore, Spain also has Netherlands, Belgium, and Romano. I have Prussia, Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and Hungary.

"We make these families, so that we are not alone. These 'families' are the Nations that we trust more than anything in the world. They are the ones that, despite history, have and always will be with us. So we tell them personal names. It's also a respect thing.

"In our time, to call a nation by their human name either means that you are a very close or. . . It's an insult. Calling someone by their human name as an insult is essentially saying that you don't recognize them as a country, and believe them to be nothing more than a human and unworthy of proper respect. Of course, it doesn't change the fact that, legally, you do recognize them, but it is the greatest insult one can give without invading the other country," Germany explained.

"Who is in America's family?" Rome asked.

"That. . . Is a complicated question," Germany continued, "I don't particularly know. He seems close with England, but they fight so often that I'm not quite sure if they count. Canada is his twin and there is rarely one without the other, so I guess you could count him. But, then again, Canada seems to have no qualms about ignoring his brother; and neither does America."

"So, Canada and England?" Rome asked.

"I wouldn't say that, no. The Nordic countries seem rather fond of him, god knows why. Then again, they deal with Denmark on a daily basis so I guess they have a pretty strong tolerance. The Netherlands treats him as a son, but so does Spain. He seems generally accepted by the Baltics and Asian countries, though I think the Asian countries only accept him because of Vietnam and Japan and S. Korea. Belarus and Ukraine seem to like him, but Russia hates his guts," Germany said.

"America kind of just. . . Bounces around. He doesn't have any set family like most of us, but everyone sort of treats him as a little brother. Aside from the micronations, he is one of the youngest nations," Germany said.

"Huh. He seems lonely," Rome said.

Germany cocked his head, setting down the brush he was using on his horse, "I suppose he might be. I never thought of it like that. Should we go back in?"

"Yes, I suppose we should." Rome laid a gentle hand on the horse's back as a goodbye before following Germany from the stables.

SO QUIT COMPLAINING BROTHER NO ONE LIVES FOREVER

 _Back in The Modern Day~_

England knocked harshly on America's hotel room door. He'd been looking for the idiot everywhere that he would usually be, but he just couldn't find him anywhere! It was like he had disappeared off the face of the Earth! Which was, of course, impossible. Nations couldn't stray too far from their land without consequences.

"l'Angleterre! Why are you knocking so loudly, some of us are trying to sleep," France whisper-shouted, opening the door just to the left of America's.

"I'm looking for America. Have you seen him?" England asked.

"l"Amerique? No, I haven't seen him since the end of the meeting a few days ago," France said, "Hasn't he just gone home?"

"No. I checked with his boss. He hasn't seen him since before he left for the meeting," England answered. France ran a hand through his hair and tied it back with a hair tie around his wrist.

"Where do you think he could have gone?" France asked.

"I don't know. Get dressed, come help me look for him," England commanded. France groaned but went back into his room to get dressed.

"Where do we start looking?" France asked.

"Last time I saw him, he was leaving the meeting with Veneziano and Germany. We should find them, see if they know anything," England said. France nodded and set out to look for the rogue nation.

About an hour into their search, they ran into Romano at some old museum that only America would actually find interesting.

"Romano, have you seen America?" France asked.

"Tch," Romano responded, annoyed, "No. Last I saw him, he was with my idiot brother. Great. They're both missing."

"Wait, your brothers are missing too?" England and Romano groaned at the German accented voice.

"First of all, America is _not_ my brother. Second of all, yes. He is missing. You wouldn't happen to know anything about it, would you?" England asked.

"Unfortunately, I haven't seen America for a couple of months. Und I haven't seen mein kleiner bruder since before the meeting a few days ago," Prussia said.

"So. . . All three of them are missing?" France asked.

"That's what I understand, bastard," Romano responded.

"Somebody is kidnapping the little brothers of the world," France despaired.

"Speaking of, where's Canada?" England asked. No one knew the answer.

LET'S HAVE A PARTY THERE'S A FULL MOON IN THE SKY IT'S THE HOUR OF THE WOLF AND I DON'T WANNA DIE

America lay in the bed Rome had given him, wide awake and thinking about tomorrow. He was struck by the sudden crash of a ceramic pot near the door. As if someone had been trying to enter the room and hadn't known it was there. He sat up quietly and reached under the bed to where he kept his actual clothing, and the gun he always carried with him. His other hand crept to the small table beside the bed and grabbed his glasses so he could see better. The moon shone through the open window and cast a faint light into the large room. America swung his feet out of bed and quietly stood up.

He made his way to where the pot had shattered, stepping carefully so as not to cut his foot on a sharp piece of pottery. He kept his gun ready, though pointed down at the floor. He didn't want to shoot. He only had three full clips, two in the guns he carried and one extra in his pants pocket. He didn't want to waste a shot on a wild animal that wouldn't hurt him.

"Who is there?" America demanded. There was a whisper of words that America didn't catch. Like a name carried on the wind from a far away place. There was a movement out of the corner of his eye and America spun, raising his gun and readying to shoot. America squinted his eyes, though he could see nothing more. No movement. No sound. Nothing. America lowered his gun and carefully made his way back to his bed, placing his gun and glasses on the bedside table and crawling back under the covers. He closed his eyes, electing to think nothing more of it till the next day.

I'M SO HAPPY DANCING WHILE THE GRIM REAPER CUTS CUTS CUTS BUT HE CAN'T CUT ME

 **Wow! It took me forever to update this! I am so sorry, you guys. I've kind of. . . Fallen out of this fandom? I'm back now, and I promise that I am working on my other stories. Anyway~ Yeah. This chapter is a bit shorter than the first part, but next chapter will be longer. Promise!**

 **Oh! Okay. So I really want you guys to review? Like? I read all reviews and I try to respond to as many of them as I can, and reviews are super important to me and actually can influence a big part of the story so. . . Yeah. Reviews make me happy, even if they're all just screaming at me for not updating.**

 **I am trying to get back into this fandom, and I promise that I am working on my other APH stories.**

 **Until Next Time, this is ID saying;** _ **That's All Folks!**_


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